


Sacred Geometry

by woollen_pharaohs



Category: Arrested Development
Genre: Hand Jobs, Incest, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Sibling Incest, shape jokes?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 18:04:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14836550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woollen_pharaohs/pseuds/woollen_pharaohs
Summary: Sally Sitwell joins the photography class at school. Michael plans to make Gob take photos of himself to impress her, but then Michael does something he won’t remember to regret.





	Sacred Geometry

**Author's Note:**

> Tbh i'm not entirely sure how much older Gob is than Michael, so imagine him at any age? I'm putting Michael at 16 or 17. 
> 
> additional warning for what can be seen as attempted suicide. 
> 
> also sorry for any mistakes, i wrote this outside of my bedtime.

Gob leans on the doorway to Michael’s room. “You want to take photos with Dad’s camera? You want to take sexy photos of yourself, develop them at school and let those creepy art nerds see your naked body and possibly also naked photos of Dad? Everyone’s going to want to see young boy dick and old man dick. Yeah, great idea Michael, that’ll win you loads of popularity points.”

Michael shoves rolls of film into a backpack, wedging them around his Dad’s SLR. “Not sexy photos - I mean, I will have my shirt off…” He zips the bag closed and turns to look at his brother. “But it’s going to be classy. And  _ you’re _ going to help me.”

Gob pulls his head back and gestures his forefinger at his chest. “Me? No. No. No, don’t you think I have better things to do than take photos of my brother all day?”

Michael looks down at the carpet, then lifts to face Gob with a smirk. “I think you got out of going with Lindsay and Mom to see Buster in the hospital after he got lead poisoning for trying to cover his hand in hot melted pencil lead in the hopes of becoming Wolverine-”

“You don’t have to explain what happened to Buster as if I’m someone who doesn’t know the context of the story,” Gob says, holding his up, palms toward Michael. “I was there. I told him that covering his hand in lead made him look more like a monster than a sexy hunk of-” Gob stops himself, his eyes darting around the room. “I mean, who wouldn’t want to be Wolverine? He bangs all of the - all of the hot chicks! Buster should have just drawn some lines on his fingers or something. He didn’t have to lose a hand for a metal one, that happens way later.” 

“I’ve been stuck on the third release for years-”

“Of course you would read Wolverine, you NERD!”

Michael holds his forefinger in the air, then presses it to his lips as the thinks aloud. “...You’re the one telling me that later in the seasons - in the comics. I don’t know why I said seasons...” Michael trails off slowly, then circles back around to what he was initially asking, “Wolverine loses a hand for metal claws?”

“No, the metal claws  _ are  _ his hand.  _ Is  _ his hands. He has metal claws in his hands that are his - it doesn’t matter! I’m not doing… whatever you just asked me to do. I already have plans,” Gob replies, placing his not-metal hands on his hips and looking very proud of himself. 

“Well as I remember,” Michael says, mimicking Gob’s stance, “You told Mom that you were planning on writing your college applications but I know for a fact that you paid that rhombus head-shaped kid in my math class to write your applications for you. Yeah, that’s right, I know he does jobs like that for the family. I was almost going to ask him to take these photos for me but lucky I didn’t because he’s already doing one of us.” Michael corrects himself, “Doing a  _ job  _ for one of us.”

Gob bites his lip although he’s certain he had nothing to feel guilty about. “Me?”

“Yes, you Gob. I’ll tell you what. You better help me out on this one or I’m telling Mom that you didn’t write those applications yourself  _ and _ that you lied to her. And  _ that’s  _ worse.”

Gob eyes Michael, contemplating his defeat. “That kid’s face looks more like some kind of squashed square than a - than a, what was it?”

“A rhombus. They’re the same thing.” Michael puts his hands on his brother’s shoulders and turns him around, pushing him out of the room. He’s fairly sure that Gob hasn’t listened to a word he has said but he’s always pliable once Michael puts his hands on him. “Good to know they taught you something in school.”

 

*

 

“Jesus Michael!” Gob exclaims, jumping away when Michael plunges himself into a field of golden grass. “You’re going to get grass seeds on my $200 pants!” 

He stands on the perimeter of the field. The tips of the grass blades sway in a gentle breeze and Gob can see the wind loosening the seeds. He bets four-eyes-four-sides boy wouldn’t be able to see the seeds and stop them from clinging to his probably $10 pants. How could Michael even consider asking a kid with a face shaped like his, when Gob’s is perfectly oblong shaped. Gob is pretty sure that’s a shape… but it doesn’t sound right, not in reference to himself, at least. He thinks it should be goblong shaped. That’s right, he just couldn’t find the G spot. 

Gob dances around the edge of the field. He still doesn’t understand why his stupid younger brother is making him trample around the hills with Dad’s camera. Didn’t Michael know that Dad tried to burn the film before Mom could find out about the naked photos of women he took on it, and that’s why the viewfinder is blacked out? 

“Did you get the shot, Gob?” Michael yells from across the field. 

Gob follows the split in the field with his eyes, and follows the fanned out grass to where Michael had stopped running. He’s posing in the centre of the field with his shirt off, his shoulders touched with the warmth of the sun and spots of red. If Gob squinted a little more, Michael could look like someone else entirely. 

“I need you to take the photo Gob! I’ve been counting, we’ve only got two shots left on that roll!”

Gob grumbles as he holds the camera to his face and jams his finger down on the one button that makes the loudest noise. 

_ Click-click! _

“Come closer! I think we should get down and dirty,” Michael calls out. “That came out wrong! I just want you to come close on me for some tight head,” He amends amidst a cough, then finishes, “A tight headshot.”

Gob loudly groans in annoyance and steps into the field. He attempts to make long lunges at first, trying to limit the amount of grass seeds attaching to his fine silk pants, but he soon discovers that there’s no point in fighting it. 

On his way, he yells, “I thought you didn’t want to make a porno roll, Michael!”

“It’s not-” Michael sighs. “It’s meant to be arty, Gob. It’s fine if you don’t get it. You just have to take the photos.”

Gob meets Michael in the centre of the field. A breeze billows his long button down, and he shakes in frustration when some grass seeds try to stick to his stomach. 

“Hey,” Michael says, shoving Gob’s arm. “I need you to focus.”

Gob wrinkles his nose. He watches Michael turn around and look out wistfully across the field. He lifts the camera and pretends that he can see out of the charred four-sided viewfinder. Hopefully for the second last time this afternoon, his nose mashes against the plastic. 

_ Click-click! _

He can still smell the melted plastic even when he lowers the camera. Michael then lies down in the grass, spreading out in what Gob presumes to be a sexy position for a male to present himself in. Gob tries to squint like that four sided kid as he stares down at Michael, seeing only a glow of white and gold and it helps a little. It makes him feel warm inside, maybe like how he would feel if he was having quality one on one time with his dad. 

He smiles, but then his mind wanders to thinking about what if it wasn’t him and Dad but rather Dad and Michael? He would be Dad with the camera, taking photos of naked women rather than his naked son. Brother.  _ Half- _ naked brother… Just his naked chest, glistening in the afternoon sun… Shapely for a male… 

“Gob, I have my eyes closed. Are you going to take the photo?”

Gob nods rapidly, his throat suddenly very parched. He lifts the camera. Both eyes covered in darkness… It’s just that he feels so safe, so out of scrutiny from anyone but Michael. And who cares about what Michael thinks? Michael’s just some scrawny kid who asked him to take photos of him in the middle of nowhere. What a  _ total _ weirdo. 

_ Click _ -

Mikey’s the total weirdo. For sure. Prancing around in nature thinking that it’s going to impress a girl. What girl would be into seeing this? Gob isn’t even into it that much. Seeing a naked - a  _ half _ -naked man strutting around isn’t doing a thing for him. Not. A. Thing. 

“Gob?” Michael sits up. “This is the last one. Just take the photo before the sun goes down.”

_ -Click! _

“Gob! I wasn’t ready!”

Michael is scrambling to his feet. Gob swallows, takes a step back and tries to laugh. “J-jokes on you, Michael! Dad’s camera doesn’t even work!”

Michael’s jaw drops. “But we’ve been out here the whole afternoon.”

Gob takes another step back, the dry grass crunching beneath his shoes. He snorts. “Yeah, you thought we were bonding, but I was just trying to teach you a lesson ab-”

Gob doesn’t get to finish his sentence because Michael jumps him. Gob fights back by slapping away any punches his brother throws, but quickly loses his balance on the dry but slippery grass and falls backwards. Michael falls on top of him, and they wrestle for a good five minutes until Michael’s hand slides across Gob’s crotch and feels how absolutely rock hard his brother is. 

Michael freezes. He doesn’t move his hand away. 

“What is this? Is this...”

Michael slowly looks up at Gob. Gob’s face is red from the exertion of fighting, and now even deeper from Michael having stumbled upon, well, Mikey  _ has  _ to know what it is!

“...Because of me?” Michael finally finishes. 

Gob feels the weight of his brother on him but it’s like Michael weighs a hundred thousand tonnes. Like he’s trying to slam him into the earth and make him dirt.

“Why would I - why would I - why would I-” Gob stammers like a broken toy. His eyes flicker to his crotch where Michael still has his hand. Flickers back to Michael, an unreadable expression on his face. Still, Michael does not recoil. Rather, he holds Gob tighter. Not in a painful seize, but a firm hold, almost a  _ stroke _ . “Why would you - why would you - why would you?”

Then, Michael lifts his other hand and presses one finger to his lips. Shakes his head, a frown on his face, then slides that same hand down his chest. Gob watches Michael’s thumb graze between his pecs, the droplets of sweat gliding down after the groove that his thumb makes, and then Michael’s popping the button to his jeans easily with one cinch of his palm. 

“Why would you - why would we?” 

Michael, in total silence, shakes his head once more. He the shuffles in between Gob’s legs, kind of leaning on Gob’s right inner thigh while he threads his hand into his jeans and pulls out his cock. Gob swallows hard when he sees it, and he  _ knows  _ Michael must feel the way his own cock jumps underneath his brother’s hand because Michael squeezes him a little. 

“Should we just?” Gob questions, but he doesn’t see Michael’s response because he has to look down to slide his metal clamp belt open. 

He shoves his hand in his pants, a move so sudden that Michael’s hand flinches away entirely. Gob holds his breath, but luckily Michael moves his hand to Gob’s left knee as a support while he starts to jerk himself off. Eager to join his brother, Gob starts stroking his cock beneath his loose silk pants - $500 pants which are now getting severely ruined by the grass. He puts the thought aside and focuses on the competition - because that’s what it is now. It’s not just who can get off the fastest, it’s who can turn the other on the most...

When Michael lolls his tongue in the corner of his mouth, Gob does as well. When Michael lifts his chin, Gob loosens the buttons of his shirt and shows off some skin at the same time as a chin lift. When Michael arches his back, Gob does so too but in an even sexier way. There is one thing that Michael hasn’t tried yet that Gob can best, so rather than waiting for his brother to play his weak hand, Gob goes for the winning ticket. 

He sits up, stealthily wraps one arm around Michael’s waist and pulls his brother closer. Michael’s hand moves from Gob’s knee to his shoulder, which only helps Gob more. His mouth is wide open and he’s about to take Mikey’s cock in his mouth before Michael smacks his palm on Gob’s head and pushes him away. 

“You’re my brother!” He cries, “You’re my brother…”

Michael wears a bad face. A really bad face… one which has never really stopped Gob before, and he knows it doesn’t really mean anything because Michael is still stroking himself at a ferocious speed. Which still means that he can’t let Michael win. 

Gob wrenches his eyes shut, grits his teeth and pulls himself faster than Michael, and finds that it hurts more than it feels good, so he slows it down. What really puts him over the edge is the sounds that his brother’s making. That, and the little trace movement that Michael does with his thumb around Gob’s ear. It tickles him just right and he meets sweet relief, sweeter because he knows that he has definitely won the competition. 

Seconds after, Michael’s slouching over him, his forehead on Gob’s shoulder as he comes. Michael chokes out a moan, his body shuddering, working out the last of his come. Gob can feel it building up on his lap. He can smell it too. The seed ruining his $900 pants. Except Michael doesn’t seem to want to move from this awkward, long hug. Gob pushes him away and immediately tends to his seed-covered pants by using the camera bag to wipe him off. 

Michael falls back on his ass. Gob can feel that Michael’s eyes are on him. In fact, he can feeling Michael’s eyes on his crotch, exactly where Michael had emptied himself. He probably likes the sight of his own spunk, little sicko. 

Once he’s wiped most of it on to the camera bag, Gob gets to his feet and throws it and Dad’s camera as far as he can. The bag kind of floats in the air, whereas the camera makes a delightful smashing noise when it connects with the ground. Gob turns back to Michael to see his reaction, but he’s met with yet another thin face. The kind where Michael’s lips are in one, shapeless line. Luckily Gob knows the family secret to getting the mouth to open wide. 

As soon as they get home, Gob doesn’t have to tell Michael what to do. Michael goes straight for Mom’s liquor cabinet and downs a whole bottle of tequila like it’s corn syrup. And that’s how Michael ends up in a hospital bed beside Buster with memory loss and a renewed yearning to take arty photos of himself all to impress a girl.

This time, Gob has the upper hand. 


End file.
